


Night of the Living Dean

by Peanut_McNut



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-19
Updated: 2011-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-26 06:37:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peanut_McNut/pseuds/Peanut_McNut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s all fun and games until someone gets turned into a zombie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night of the Living Dean

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime during season five. Posting it kind of out of season, but so far as I'm concerned, Halloween lasts year-round (even if it's only in my head).

“Dean, this is stupid.”

“No, it’s freaking awesome.”

“Bobby wouldn’t like it.”

“That’s why Bobby’s not here,” Dean says, ignoring his brother.

“Dude, he’s not here because you and your idiotic obsession chased him out of his own house,” Dean grumbles something incoherent as Sam glares at his brother. He tosses a wadded up paper towel at Dean, “You’re such a child.”

“Whatever, Sasquatch,” Dean says, turning away from the mirror for a moment to look at Sam, “Just do your job.”

“I’m not your slave.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just make it snappy, bitch.”

Sam rolls his eyes, but gets up to leave, “God, you’re such a jerk.”

Dean laughs at him as he turns back to his work.

**********

Castiel stands on a deserted beach, looking out across the endless stretch that resembles ink more than water. The cool breeze coming off the ocean swirls the bottom of Jimmy’s trench coat around his legs, his black dress shoes partially obscured by white sand. It’s calming after spending another fruitless day searching for his wayward Father. He is out there and Castiel has faith he will find Him, but without even the smallest of leads, the angel is tired.

If this new feeling of weariness has anything to do with his slow descent into humanity, Castiel doesn’t acknowledge it.

The ringing of his phone brings Castiel back to the present. Retrieving it from the depths of his pocket, he looks at it, momentarily surprised by the name he sees.

“Sam?”

“Cass, hey!” the younger Winchester’s voice sounds strained, immediately putting the angel on edge, “We need your help.”

“What’s-”

“It’s Dean,” Sam interrupts, “He’s…”

“Where are you?”

“We’re at Bobby’s. Just-”

Castiel closes his phone, not bothering to listen to whatever else Sam has to say. With a blink of an eye, he’s no longer standing on the beach. Bobby Singer’s library is unusually dark, a minimal amount of early evening sunlight filtering in through a few of the windows. Clusters of candles line the room, casting eerie shadows along the dusty stacks of books and peeling walls. Castiel stands in the middle of the room. No one appears to be in the house.

“Dean?” Castiel calls out into the darkened house, “Sam?”

A few moments pass without a response, then Castiel hears something. It’s a low, guttural sound. He moves forward, certain that one or both of the Winchesters must be hurt. Before he can take more than a few steps, a figure stumbles towards him from the darkened kitchen. Castiel stops as it moves out of the shadows and into the partially lit room.

“Dean?”

The figure is decidedly that of Dean Winchester, but something is wrong. Dean’s walk is off kilter, his arms stretched out in front of him as he lumbers along, much slower than his normal gait. Head tilting to the side, his mouth hangs open as another moan escapes him.

As Dean comes further into the flickering light, Castiel can see the full extent of his charge’s present predicament. Dean’s eyes are sunken in. A deep gash runs across his forehead, as a flap of skin dangles from the cut. Blood is smeared across his mouth and appears to be all over his hands.

“Dean?” Castiel repeats as his charge ambles closer, “What happened?”

All he receives in response is another horrifying groan as Dean comes within feet of Castiel. He may not know how it happened, but clearly Dean has been turned into a zombie. Steadying himself, Castiel prays he still has enough strength to heal Dean as he holds his ground. He wonders briefly why Dean is moving so slow, having always been under the assumption zombies moved much faster.

As Dean comes within easy reach, Castiel lunges. Grabbing on to him, he knocks Dean to the ground and lands on top of him. His charge struggles with him, calling his name and putting up much more of a fight than his lethargic stride should have made possible. Holding him firm, Castiel begins muttering in Enochian.

**********

Sam has always known that his brother can be kind of an idiot, but seriously, Dean’s out doing himself today. Much to Dean’s dismay, Sam had insisted on hiding in the shadows for this ridiculous stunt. He knew full well that this would not go over how his brother had gleefully imagined and Sam wanted to be close by for damage control.

When Dean began his ludicrous show, Sam had rolled his eyes at the back of his brother’s head. When Castiel laid Dean out, Sam had stifled his laughter behind his fist in an attempt to remain silent. But when Dean started shouting Castiel’s name and the angel appeared to be trying to mojo his brother back to “normal,” Sam decided it was time to intervene.

Flipping on light switches as he goes, Sam bursts into the room, “Wait! Stop!”

The angel glances up at him, “I can handle this, Sam.”

“Goddamn it, Cass! Get the hell off of me!” Dean shouts, squirming under the immovable angel.

“It’s a joke, Cass!” Sam yells.

It seems to take a moment for Sam’s words to reach Castiel, but when they do, Castiel’s gaze snaps to Sam as he holds Dean down even tighter.

“What?” Castiel asks, low and dangerous.

“Uh…” Sam says, distantly wondering how he’d ever let Dean blackmail him into this.

Dean stares up at Castiel, “Happy Halloween?”

The angel looks down at the voice, glaring hard at Dean, who seems to be trying his best to sink beneath the floorboards.

“You were never in danger?”

“Um, no.”

“You called me here under false pretenses, pretending to be in a dire situation because…?”

“I – er, I mean we wanted you to hang out for Halloween,” Dean says, trying to smile at the angel.

“It’s Dean’s favorite holiday,” Sam supplies in an attempt to save his brother’s ass from being smote where he lies on Bobby’s floor, “He gets a little carried away sometimes.”

“I know I do not understand everything about human society,” Castiel growls, without looking away from Dean, “but I am fairly certain this is not how you invite someone to a gathering.”

“I thought it would be fun?” Dean tries. When Castiel pushes him further into the floor, Dean continues, “Ow, hey! It was just a prank, Cass! I thought you’d, you know, laugh.”

“You thought I’d find humor in your likely irreversible transformation into the one of the flesh-eating undead?”

Dean pauses, “Well, when you put it like that…”

With a huff, Castiel stands and appears to be readying himself to leave. Dean scrambles to his feet, quickly grabbing hold of the angel’s ever-present trench coat. Sam sighs, watching the two of them. While it’s true his brother can be a dick and a moron sometimes, he’s always quick to make amends for his screw ups.

“C’mon on, man,” Dean pleads, “Don’t go. I’m sorry, okay? I promise I won’t try to scare you ever again.”

Castiel gives the slightest roll of his eyes and Dean sighs, “All right, I promise not to scare you on purpose. Happy? Can you just stay, please? We’ll carve pumpkins and eat candy and watch scary movies. We can even go into town. They’ve always got stuff going on. It’ll be fun.”

The angel studies Dean. Sam inwardly groans as Dean and Castiel embark on yet another one of their epic staring contest. He feels compelled to smash their heads together. At least if they started making out, these insufferable eye-sex matches would be over. Only the nightmarish image of his brother trying to jam his tongue down the angel’s throat keeps Sam rooted to his spot. While he’d totally be cool with Dean and Cass being a…whatever, he really doesn’t need to see it. He doesn’t need to see Dean with anyone. Ever. Thanks.

Castiel apparently comes to some kind of decision. Tilting his head, he says, “I thought humans carved turnips on All Hallow’s Eve.”

**********

Dean’s one-eyed pumpkin sits in front of him on the kitchen table, forgotten as it smiles at him with a partially complete crooked grin. He watches Castiel carve. The amount of concentration Cass is putting into his jack-o-lantern’s face is mesmerizing. The pink tip of the angel’s tongue pokes out the side of his mouth as Castiel leans toward his pumpkin, knife slowly sawing precise lines. Periodically, Cass leans back, taking in his progress from a different vantage point before returning to his work.

 _“Chief, if I were surrounded by eight or ten of these things, would I stand a chance with them?”_ a voice from the TV asks.

Dean swivels around in his chair, eyeing the onscreen sheriff as he answers the reporter’s question, _“Well, there’s no problem. If you have a gun, shoot ‘em in the head. That’s a sure way to kill ‘em. If you don’t, get yourself a club or a torch. Beat ‘em or burn ‘em. They go up pretty easy.”_

“Yeah right dude, it’s way harder than that,” Sam grumbles, never looking up from his overgrown pumpkin.

Dean had presented him with the largest gourd he could find, telling him it was only fitting for such a gigantic brother. Sam had been less than pleased.

Smirking at the memory, Dean turns away from “Night of the Living Dead” to address his brother, “You have a problem with Romero, Sammy?”

“You know it’s wrong, Dean. Don’t you remember that girl we had to kill? Kill again, I guess. All because her best friend and want-to-be boyfriend couldn’t let her go?”

“Yeah… Angela or something like that. So?”

“So? We had to stake her back into her grave!” Sam says, punctuating his point with a flourish of his carving knife, “We tried beating her, shooting her, and neither worked.”

“I believe it depends on the manner with which the zombie is raised.”

Both Sam and Dean turn to look at Castiel. Only the angel’s perpetually messy black hair can be seen over the top of his jack-o-lantern.

“Oh do tell, Columbus,” Dean says, leaning back in his chair.

Without missing a beat, Sam asks, “If he’s Columbus, does that make you Wichita?”

Dean glares at his brother. Sam’s mouth twitches in a barely suppressed grin, “Guess that makes you Little Rock. Doesn’t it, Bresslin?”

The almost smirk turns into a full-on bitch face. Dean smiles sweetly at his brother as Castiel looks between the two Winchesters, obviously confused.

“I am not the man you credit with the discovery of America.”

Dean closes his eyes and takes a breath, mentally adding “Zombieland” to the ever growing list of stuff he needs to educate his angel in, “Don’t worry about it, Cass. Sam’s just being an ass. You were saying?”

Castiel glances at the brothers once more before continuing, “There are any number of spells and lore regarding the raising of the dead, most of which have been lost to mankind. However, depending on the magic and even the entity performing it, there can exist numerous different types of zombies.”

“So, whatever uh, species you’re dealing with may require a different way to kill it?” Sam asks.

“Gives a whole new meaning to “different strokes for different folks” doesn’t it?”

Sam rolls his eyes at Dean as Castiel answers, “Basically, yes.”

“Well awesome, good to know for future reference,” Dean says, stabbing his knife back into the hard, orange outer skin of his pumpkin.

“Are you guys about done? We’re going to miss out on everything going on in town if we don’t leave soon.”

“Why? You got a hot date or something?” Dean asks. When Sam doesn’t immediately answer, he looks up, “No way! Anyone I know?”

Sam mumbles something incoherent as he tries and fails to disappear behind his enormous pumpkin.

**********

It takes them awhile to find something for the angel to wear. Bobby had trashed Dean’s collection of Halloween odds and ends a few years ago. The older man had a problem providing storage space for the very stuff Dean used to scare him with year after year. Dean had bounced a few ideas off Cass, all of which had been swiftly shot down. In the end, they went with an old standby.

After locating the necessary supplies, Dean hands Cass a white sheet and a pair of scissors. He tells him to cut some holes, two for his eyes and one for his mouth. Dean even puts the thing over his own head as he gives his instructions, so the angel has some idea of what he was going for.

In hindsight, it was probably a dumb idea for them to leave Cass unattended for arts and crafts time. In their defense, Dean and Sam were out of the room for less than a minute, grabbing some last minute supplies to finish up both Dean and Castiel’s costumes.

When they return, Cass proudly holds up his sheet with a shy smile, “Like this?”

Somehow the angel had managed to put 15 different holes in the sheet. Dean walks over to him, inspecting the damage, “I think you’ve got a few too many there, Cass.”

Sam thought it was funny and suggested Castiel go as a Charlie Brown ghost. Dean thought he looked more like swiss cheese, which just wouldn’t do for Cass’ first time properly celebrating Halloween. Deciding it would be in his best interest not to put any more holes in Bobby’s sheets, Dean scrounges up another one and drapes it around Castiel. He fastens it like a cloak, only the front of Castiel’s riotous black hair poking out from under the makeshift hood.

“Put some of this on,” Dean says, handing Cass some of the leftover makeup from his zombie kit. Castiel inspects it, carefully dipping a finger into some of the white. It quickly becomes clear to Dean that the angel has no idea what he’s doing.

Sighing, Dean takes it back from him. He motions for the angel to have a seat then pulls up a chair for himself, sitting right in front of Castiel, “Let me do it.”

Dean gently slides his fingertips across Castiel’s face, leaving trails of white in his wake. He runs his clean fingers through the front of Cass’ hair, pushing it aside to apply some of the makeup to the angel’s forehead. Castiel sits still as a statue as Dean works.

When Cass’ entire face is ghostly white, Dean looks him over. Something seems to be missing.

“Close your eyes,” Dean says quietly.

Castiel does as he’s told. Dean leans in closer, carefully painting large black circles around Castiel’s eyes.

“All right, open them.”

The black sets off Cass’ ridiculously blue eyes perfectly and Dean finds it hard to look away. He’s not sure how long he and Castiel stare at each other. He’s even less certain when his body forgot how to breathe correctly. They may have stayed that way the rest of the night had it not been for Sam clearing his throat somewhere behind Dean.

“You guys ready?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean says. He stands up a little too quickly, almost knocking the kitchen table over. Dean awkwardly gives Cass’ shoulder a light punch as he grins at him, “You look great, man.”

With that, Dean beats a hasty retreat before he says something really stupid.

**********

“Sam! There you are!”

Dean looks around, peering through the crowd of costumed people. He nearly knocks over a guy in an Admiral Ackbar suit as he turns just in time to see his brother be tackled by a curvy brunette dressed in a very form-fitting cheerleader costume. Sam stumbles at the unexpected impact, but eventually manages to right them both.

“Do I…?” Sam begins to ask, obviously confused before trailing off as he makes some kind of connection. He eyes the grinning woman, holding her at arms length, “Wait. You can’t be-”

He never gets to finish. The cheerleader bounces up and down, hugging Sam tight at the waist, “Yes, it’s me silly!”

Sam looks as though he wants to say something else, but the girl drags him down for a forceful kiss. Dean has no idea who this chick is, but she seems to be about Sam’s age. She’s hot, long hair tied in pig-tails and her red and white costume accentuating all the right places. Still, there’s something off about her. Dean finds her innately annoying, which is odd. Normally, when a girl looks like that, he doesn’t notice things like personality traits. Or names.

“Why do you look like that?” Sam asks, sounding appalled.

“It’s Halloween!” the woman answers, tugging at Sam’s sleeve, “C’mon! I have something to show you.”

Dean shrugs as his little brother looks to him for help. It’s not his problem. Sammy apparently set this date up, he can sure as hell see it through. Besides, that uncomfortable, prissy face Sam’s making is absolutely hilarious.

Peppy the cheerleader notices Sam’s hesitation. She smiles, turning toward Dean and Castiel for the first time, “Oh! This is your brother and his…friend, right? I’m sure they’ll let me take you off their hands for awhile.”

Dean bristles as she shakes one of her red and white pompoms in his face, tickling his nose. She laughs, “You don’t mind, do you kid?”

Without waiting for an answer, she hauls Sam away and Dean couldn’t be happier to see her go.

“That was strange,” Castiel says, stepping up to stand just a little too close to Dean as they watch the bizarre couple disappear into the crowd.

“That’s what you get for refusing to put on a costume,” Dean says, grinning at Castiel. He takes Cass by the arm, “Let’s go have some fun.”

**********

As usual for this time of year, the town is hopping. Dean and Castiel stand among the crowd and watch the small, but enthusiastic costume parade as it proceeds down Main Street. Kids dressed as everything from monsters to princesses make way down the street flanked by equally decked out adults. A four-year-old dressed as Freddy Kruger walks by them, holding Snow White’s hand. It never ceases to amaze Dean how little kids can make scary movie baddies still look adorable.

Once the last few costumed characters pass through, the festivities truly begin in earnest. Booths and tables line the sidewalks and are scattered around the small park located towards the middle of town. Some hand out candy while others sell any number of delicious looking foods. Others are devoted to games. White Christmas lights are strung in the trees, helping the street lamps illuminate the night as they cast a warm glow among the reds and yellows of the autumn leaves.

Dean leads Castiel through the different vendors, watching the angel take in the scene before him. Castiel studies the food selections as if they were some kind of complex math problem, which Dean finds absolutely hilarious.

“What is that?”

Dean’s eyes widen when he finds what Cass is pointing at, “Turkey leg!”

He purchases two, handing one of them over to Cass before attacking his own. For a minute, he’s blissfully distracted by the all the juicy meat. When he finally looks up, he sees the angel paused mid-bite, mouth hanging open as his turkey leg hangs suspended a few inches from his face.

“What?” Dean manages to ask around a mouthful of turkey.

Castiel simply shakes his head at Dean as he takes a polite bite. Dean shrugs and returns to tearing meat from bone.

After their meal, Dean takes Castiel towards some of the game booths. He dares Cass to try bobbing for apples, expecting to watch the angel flounder about and completely douse himself with water. To his utter amazement, it takes Castiel only a few seconds to capture one. Staying almost completely dry, there is only the faint shine of water glistening around Castiel’s mouth as he stands. Not to be outdone, Dean tries his luck. The slippery little devils refuse to stay still for him and he nearly drowns himself when his hands slip on the wet sides of the wooden barrel.

He resurfaces, head completely drenched and without an apple to show for his trouble. The lady dressed as a gypsy who is working the booth offers him a towel. Dean declines, not wanting to mess up his zombie makeup anymore than the water already has. Turning, he sees Castiel’s lips twitch as the angel tries not to grin. He may not be willing to wipe his face, but Dean’s more than happy to shake some of the water out of his short hair. If some of that happens to hit Castiel, then that’s cool too.

Dean had just introduced Castiel to the joys of candied apples as they made there way to the old school house where ghost stories were being told when he hears his cell phone ring. Dean fishes his phone out of his pocket. It’s Sam. He flips it open and is greeted with what sounds like grunting and heavy breathing.

“Dude seriously, we’re getting ready to go listen to horror stories, so I really don’t need the audio tour of your sex life.”

“Dean, you need to get back to Bobby’s,” he hears Sam whisper over the phone.

He stops in the middle of a relatively deserted road. Castiel pauses, looking at him in concern, “Sam, what’s going on?”

“It’s the girl,” Sam says.

“You’re date?”

“Something’s wrong with her,” Sam continues as though he didn’t hear Dean, “She’s acting like…”

He can hear what sounds like scuffling noises, then the line goes dead. Dean slams the phone shut, jamming it back in his pocket.

“Is Sam all right?”

“Can you mojo us back to Bobby’s?”

The look on Dean’s face must tell Castiel all he needs to know. The angel nods solemnly as he lifts two fingers and presses them against Dean’s forehead. They land on Bobby’s front porch. Without thinking, Dean charges into the house. Castiel calls his name, urging Dean to wait, but he ignores him.

“Sam?” Dean shouts into house.

Everything looks exactly as they’d left it. The lights are still on and a different horror flick is playing on the TV, providing a slightly unnerving soundtrack of screams and howls to the relative silence of the house. Dean makes his way through the library, stopping in shock as he sees what waits in the kitchen.

Bobby is slumped slightly in his wheelchair with his eyes closed, blood drenching the front of his flannel shirt. Somewhere in his brain, Dean wonders how in the hell the old man made it back home so quickly. He’d been almost a state away earlier, with no intention of returning today. There’s no sign of Sam anywhere. Dean can’t see any wounds, but moves in closer to see if… Dean’s not really willing to think of the if’s at the moment. He’s only halfway to Bobby when he hears something behind him.

“Dean!” Castiel cries.

He turns in time to see the angel fall to the ground, Sam’s cheerleader girlfriend tearing away at him.

“Get the hell off him, you bitch!” Dean yells as he starts towards them.

The woman turns when she hears his shout. No longer the beauty they’d seen only a couple of hours ago, the chick is in full on monster mode. Her hair is scraggly and her skin a deathly shade of pale. Her big brown eyes now glassy and less than human. Blood drips from her mouth as she growls at Dean.

Dean stops and stares at her, momentarily stunned. Luckily, Castiel is quicker on the uptake. Cass uses the woman’s distraction to his advantage, his hand coming to rest on her head. There’s a flash of bright, white light that makes Dean squint. The next thing he knows, the cheerleader is flying through the air and slams into one of the many overloaded shelves. Books fall on and around her, but the woman never moves.

Castiel props up on his elbows and stares at her for a moment, breath coming in harsh gasps. Dean is about to say something, when Castiel’s arms give out as he collapses back down to the floor. He’s at the angel’s side before Dean even realizes he’s moved, kneeling next to Cass to survey the damage.

Castiel’s breathing is still rough, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The sheet Dean had used to make Cass’ costume lies scattered around him in tatters. The angel’s customary suit and trench coat, which he had insisted on wearing under his costume, didn’t manage to make it out of the attack unscathed either. Luckily though, it all seems to be mostly superficial injuries.

“Well, I don’t think anything’s permanently damaged.”

Dazed blue eyes stare up at Dean. Cass turns his head to the side. Bright red blood slowly seeps out of a bite on Castiel’s pale neck.

“…Cass?”

“You know what it is, Dean.”

Well, of course he knows what it is. A zombie cheerleader had decided an angel, dressed as a ghost, would make a pretty good midnight snack. And damn if that doesn’t sound like a plot for a bad horror film.

“Yeah, I get that. Just get with the healing already.”

“I’m trying. It’s-” Cass breaks off, coughing.

Dean lifts Cass, holding him up against him to make it easier for the angel to breathe. Castiel is sweating. He’s never seen Cass sweat and it’s seriously starting to freak Dean out. He gently wipes Castiel’s face with his sleeve, removing most of the costume makeup in the process.

He knew Cass was gradually becoming more human and less angel, but surely he hadn’t fallen far enough to be affected by this kind of stuff yet. Castiel gives another wracking cough and Dean can’t help but panic a little, unable to shake the thought that maybe he has.

“I can’t stop it,” Castiel says, holding Dean’s gaze, “You’re going to have to-”

“No,” Dean growls, holding Cass tighter to him.

He knows exactly what the angel is asking of him, and no way in hell is it happening. There has to be another way.

“Dean…” Castiel murmurs, smiling slightly.

Dean shakes his head violently, positive he does not want to hear whatever it is the angel wants to say. They’re not saying goodbye. They’re not doing the whole deathbed confessions thing. It’s not happening, damn it.

He’s about to remind Castiel about the ban on chick flick moments when Cass reaches up to swipe at his face, because Dean has apparently started to cry. Like a girl. Awesome.

**********

Sam sighs sullenly as he stands in Bobby’s kitchen, arms crossed. He really hates Halloween. For the second time today, he finds himself an unwilling accomplice to someone else’s dumb plan. Someday, he’ll learn how to keep himself out of the middle of this stupid stuff.

“Guys, just stop,” he says, walking towards his brother and his brother’s angel.

Dean turns to look at him, eyes already bloodshot, “Sammy? It’s Cass, he-”

“Sam!” a voice calls from the shadows somewhere behind him, “You’re ruining the whole show!”

Sam watches as Dean’s face twists into an odd cross between grief and confusion upon hearing the new voice. He’s distracted, however, when the formerly out of commission cheerleader extricates herself from the pile of books she’d landed in. She moves to stand between where Dean and Cass are huddled on the library floor and where Sam stands in the kitchen.

“Sam, run!” Dean shouts. Sam just rolls his eyes, unimpressed. A moment later the cheerleader disappears, leaving Dean to blink at the empty space, “What the hell?”

“Why is that always your first conclusion?”

Castiel’s head pops up a little as he tries to see who the newcomer is, “Gabriel?”

The archangel moves out of the shadows and stops to stand next to Sam, “Hey, bro. Looking a little down in the dumps.”

Sam shoots Gabriel a warning glare, noticing that fake Bobby has disappeared as well. If he’s not careful, Dean may try to strangle the archangel regardless of the fact that it won’t work.

“Fix him,” Dean says, apparently choosing to ignore Gabriel’s less than sympathetic comment.

Gabriel looks like he’s about to say something, but Sam elbows him. The archangel looks him over. Shrugging, he snaps his fingers. Almost immediately, Castiel returns to his normal, stoic self. Dean inspects his angel before helping him to his feet. Sam wonders if Dean even realizes he doesn’t let go of Castiel once they’re standing.

“You did this,” Dean says.

“Yep,” it wasn’t a question, but Gabriel being Gabriel answers anyways.

Dean waits for the archangel to elaborate, but he never does, “Okay, I give. Why’d you do it?”

“I’m a trickster! Do I need a reason?”

“You were never a damn trickster.”

Gabriel waves him off, “Details, details. Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy pulling a fast one on you, Dean-O. You’re just so much fun.”

Dean looks like he’s about to explode. Sam thinks that instead of Dean holding on to Castiel, it’s actually the other way around now and he’s infinitely grateful for it. Charging Gabriel would not end well.

“So this was all just a game to you?”

“I admit it was a perk pranking a notorious Halloween prankster on his extra special night, but this wasn’t entirely just for kicks,” he says, beaming at Dean, “Oh, come on! You’re really not too quick on the uptake are you? Actually, neither of you are.”

“What are you talking about, Gabriel,” Castiel asks, the slightest edge of annoyance creeping into his tone.

“There’s always a lesson and, with a little help from Sammy here of course, I think we may have had a breakthrough with you two crazy kids.”

Dean looks between the two of them. Sam groans inwardly as he watches as his older brother shifts from confused to pissed, “You helped him?”

“I uh…kind of?”

“Why?”

Gabriel shrugs, “He needed help with a little project he’s been failing at for months and I offered my services.”

“And obviously it was a mistake telling you about it,” Sam grumbles, “This was so not at all what I had in mind.”

Dean looks completely disgusted as he closes his eyes as he tries to gather himself, “Do I even want to know why you’d want to help him?”

“It is Halloween. You know, tricks for treats and all that. I figured I’d earn mine this year,” Gabriel grins wickedly, wrapping an arm around Sam’s waist and hugging him close.

Dean’s jaw drops and Sam dearly wishes he could just disappear. This was not exactly how he’d wanted to tell his older brother about this. Truthfully, he’d planned on waiting as long as possible to tell Dean about Gabriel. Or never telling him if he could have figured out a way to somehow swing that.

Dean glances at Castiel, “Did you know about this?”

“That our brothers were fornicating?” Castiel asks mildly, as Dean nearly chokes next to him, “No, I was unaware.”

Sam leans towards Gabriel, but never takes his eyes off Dean, “I’m going to get you for this later.”

“Don’t make promises that fine little ass of yours can’t keep,” Gabriel says far too loudly, giving him a lewd wink.

“I think I’m going to be sick. Sammy, what the hell?!”

Sam opens his mouth to explain, but there’s really nothing to say. He’s not even sure how this all happened in the first place. Gabriel is unfortunately never at a loss for words and fills in for him.

“We can talk about this later bro-in-law. Instead, why don’t you tell us if we managed to get through that thick head of yours? Inquiring minds want to know. The most important mind being the one currently attached to your hip. You two just pick up where you left off before Sam so rudely interrupted your little moment. I know my little brother there is dying to hear what you have to say.”

Sam kicks Gabriel hard in the leg, which only succeeds in sending a shock of pain through his own foot. When he looks back at his brother and Castiel, they’re staring at each other again. Fan-freaking-tastic.

**********

This had somehow turned into the weirdest damn night of Dean’s life and frankly, that’s saying something. Gabriel and Sam being…together definitely tops the list, but unfortunately the winged arch-dick had a point. As Dean turns and looks into Castiel’s eyes, he realizes he does have something he wants to say to Cass.

“Dean, I-”

He surges forward, cutting Castiel off as his lips collide with the angel’s. After all, Dean Winchester has never been very good with words. Cass responds almost immediately, which is only kind of a surprise. He clutches at Dean and tries to pull him closer, which is pretty much impossible since they’re already almost standing on top of each other.

Slowly Dean becomes aware of Gabriel’s whooping and catcalls. He even hears Sam heave a relieved sigh as he mutters a “Finally,” quickly followed by an “Ew, gross.”

Dean grins, murmuring against Castiel’s lips, “You think you can BAMF us somewhere a little less crowded?”

Castiel gives a small nod and Dean has just enough time to flip his traitorous brother and Gabriel off before he feels that familiar, yet highly uncomfortable pull. Before he knows it, he’s lying in warm sand on a beach somewhere with an arm full of angel. The sun slips slowly past the horizon, painting the sky a blood red as Dean drags Cass down for another kiss.

He silently pledges to get revenge against Sam and Gabriel. But even Dean has to admit, as Castiel does something no angel should know how to do with his tongue, that this had turned out to be the best Halloween ever.


End file.
